


Clumsy

by katieelizabeth



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Not Canon Compliant, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-09 17:11:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1991034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katieelizabeth/pseuds/katieelizabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has a question to ask.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clumsy

**Author's Note:**

> No character belong to me.  
> However, the mistakes do belong to me.  
> Please read and comment x x

Molly Hooper abhorred paperwork.  She loathed the reams and reams she had to complete after every post mortem she performed, not to mention the forms she had to fill in when a new corpse came in.  Which was why she’d readily agreed when Mike had asked her to cover his Bioimaging tutorial, of course now it was looming she was regretting it.  Damn Doctor Andrews for taking the day off and damn Doctor Drebber for being off on maternity leave and damn her eager to please nature.  Damn it all to hell.  In retrospect she probably shouldn’t have agreed to do the teaching course in the first place, but Mike had suggested it and it had seemed like a good idea at the time.  But now, when she was faced with the prospect of actually teaching a group of students, it seemed like a terrible idea.

Suddenly the lab doors flew open, banging into the wall.  “John’s moving out.” the intruder said by way of a greeting. 

“He and Mary finally found a flat then.” she replied, without looking up from the indecipherable scribble which was apparently Mike’s lesson plan.

Her visitor harrumphed loudly.  “He’ll be out in two weeks.”

“Well, you shouldn’t be that surprised, they _have_ been looking for months.”

“I’m aware of that, thank you.” he grumbled before letting out a loud sigh, which was followed by at least three more in quick succession.

Molly took the hint and finally looked up at him, taking in the familiar tall, skinny frame, thin face, dark curly hair and bright blue eyes of her boyfriend.  “Alright, what’s wrong?”

Sherlock huffed.  “Wrong?  Why would anything be wrong?”

She rolled her eyes.  “Oh please, you’ve been behaving like a three year old since you arrived, so tell me what’s wrong.”

He sighed again, pouting childishly.  “John is moving.”

“Yes, I know.”

“It’s highly inconvenient…” he grumbled, pacing around with his coat billowing out behind him.  “…we’re busy at the moment, the busiest we’ve been in weeks.  It will completely disrupt the work, not to mention the disturbance to all of my things when he leaves.” he pulled a face.

Molly raised her eyebrows.  “Right…so that’s it, is it?  Nothing to do with the fact that you’ll miss him?”

He paused and glared at her.  “I will not miss him!!”

Tutting, she set down the lesson plan and strode over to him.  “Of course you’ll miss him…” she murmured, peering up at him.  “…but you’ll still see him and he’ll still help on case.”

“Ha!  No doubt _Mary Morstan_ will put a stop to that!!” he snapped, scowling darkly. 

Her eyebrows shot up.  “I thought you liked Mary.”

“Hm.  She is tolerable though I will have to rethink that opinion if she plans to monopolise John’s time.” 

She frowned and slipped her hands under his coat and blazer, wrapping her arms round his waist before stretching up and pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his lips.  “I know you hate change but he’s still going to be your best friend…” she murmured, pausing to kiss him again.  “…no matter what happens and Mary won’t keep him away from you, she knows how close you are.”

Sherlock harrumphed and ducked his head, kissing, nipping and licking a path down the side of her neck.

Molly bit her lip and let out a contented sigh as she relaxed against him.

Only when he started pushing her lab coat out of the way, did she come to her senses.  “No…” she breathed, pulling away.  “…you need to go.”

“Hm.  I was thinking we could utilise the lock on your office door, since it was so…successful that first time.”

Heat flooded her face.  “I told you, that is never happening again!  I can’t look at my desk in the same way.  No, you need to go because I have a class coming in here soon, so you can’t stay…” Molly paused and bit back a moan as he planted kisses on a sensitive part of her neck.  “…Sh-Sherlock, seriously stop.”

Sherlock huffed and pulled away.  “Maybe you should’ve just said no when Mike asked you to cover.”

“How do you…” she stopped and shook her head.  “…never mind, I don’t have time.  You have to go.”

“Can’t I just sit in the corner?” he said, pouting at her.

“No…”  Molly insisted.  “…you can’t, I won’t be able to concentrate and neither will the students.  You know how they all get when you’re around.  Anyway, I’m ninety percent sure it’s one of the girls in this class who has been leaving those explicit messages on your website and John’s blog.”

Sherlock tutted loudly.  “I don’t know why you read those, they only upset you.”

“I am not upset, I just think it’s inappropriate…” she stopped as she heard people outside the door.  “…you need to go now.  I’ll bring a takeaway round later if you like.”

“Thai?”

“Sure.  Now go.” she replied, stretching up and kissing him again.

After a final kiss he turned and swept out of the classroom, the chatter which had built up outside the lab stopped abruptly.

Molly sighed and rolled her eyes, striding over to the door, just as Sherlock disappeared around the corner, followed by the eyes of almost the entire class.  “Everyone inside.” she said loudly, waving in the few students who were actually paying attention.  One by one the staring students realised that she was waiting and hurried past her, until only one girl was left.  Incidentally it was the one she suspected of leaving the graphic messages.  “By all means, waste some more time Anna!” she snapped, glaring at the girl, who flushed right to the roots of her peroxide blonde hair.

Anna hurried past her with a muttered “sorry, Doctor Hooper.”

Molly nodded briskly and strode back to the desk at the front of the room, quickly getting into Mike’s planned lecture.

* * *

“So…did you ask her?” John enquired, closing the newspaper he’d been reading and folding it in half before dropping it onto the small table beside his chair.

Sherlock grimaced.  “No.”

“Why not?  That’s the only reason you went to Barts in the first place!”

He tutted.  “I am aware of that, thank you John!” stripping off his coat and scarf, dropping them both on the floor, Sherlock threw himself on the sofa, clasping his hands under his chin.

He heard John sigh loudly.  “I don’t see what’s so hard!  I’ve told you what to say, I even offered to write it down for you.”

He ignored him.  It was all very well discussing it with John, but actually saying what they’d discussed to Molly was proving difficult.

“You do know that she’ll say yes, don’t you?  There’s no need to be nervous.”

“I am not nervous, John!!”

“Oh, for Christ sake!!  I haven’t seen you like this since you asked her out for coffee for the first time…” John paused and tutted.  “…look, Molly loves you, god help her and she will want to live with you.”

When Sherlock ignored him again, the doctor sighed dramatically and left the room, his bedroom door slamming upstairs.

Of course he knew that Molly loved him, for some unknown reason that he still didn’t understand, even after being in a relationship with her for almost two years.  And he also knew that he loved Molly, a fact that had come as a surprise to both of them.  But John was right, he was nervous and it irritated him.  He really shouldn’t be when he was so certain of Molly’s affections.  Still it was a big step in their rather unconventional relationship.

Sherlock remained on the sofa, pondering his situation while John remained in his room, finally coming back down smelling of cologne and dressed in his best jeans and clearly freshly ironed shirt.  Ah, date night with Mary.

“I’m leaving now.” John said.

Sherlock glanced round at him.  “Enjoy your date.”

“I will…” he paused and sighed.  “…just ask her, Sherlock.  It’ll be fine, I know it will.”  With that, John left.

Molly arrived a little while later, letting herself in with the spare key he’d given her for emergencies.  He didn’t acknowledge her, even when she pressed a kiss to the top of his head, nor did he react when the smell of pad thai wafted through the flat.  He could hear her in the kitchen, humming some ridiculous pop song while rummaging around in the plastic bag the Thai takeaway always came in.

Sherlock sighed and flung himself off the sofa, he was fed up of thinking about it so he was just going to do it.  “I think you should move in with me.” he said abruptly.  The noises that had been coming from the kitchen stopped immediately.

Molly suddenly stepped into view, her eyes wide with surprise.  “W-what?”

“It’s the ideal solution.” he stated, turning away from her before starting to pace around the sitting room.  “Living here will benefit you financially, the rent here will be a lot lower since we’ll split it.  Besides, it is ludicrous for you to continue paying for your flat when you are barely there.  Baker Street is much closer to Barts than your flat so you’ll save money on transportation.  It’s practical.  Once John has moved out I will have the space.  I will be able to discuss cases whenever I need to, even if John is with Mary.  It would be far more convenient for me to have to close by when I need you.  I also…I think I would quite like having you live here.  I believe our relationship would benefit from it and…” he paused, turning on his heel to begin a tenth lap of the room, realising belatedly that Molly had gone.  He frowned and strode into the kitchen, her coat was gone along with the striped canvas bag she always carried but the Thai food she’d brought was sitting on the side going cold.  Just then the front door banged shut.  Sherlock strode to the window and peered down onto the street below.  Molly was standing on the pavement wiping her face frantically.  She was crying.  Just as he was about to go down to her, she hailed a taxi and climbed in, burying her face in her hands as it drove away.

Sherlock’s shoulders sagged as the black cab disappeared around the corner.  What exactly had he done wrong?  His brain struggled to comprehend what had happened.  She hadn’t even let him finish his well thought out reasons.  Perhaps John was wrong, perhaps she didn’t want to live with him.  With a grunt he turned and strode off into his bedroom, slamming the door before throwing himself on the bed, steadfastly ignoring all of the things Molly had left there.  His brain was running through the last ten minutes, desperately trying to work out where he had gone wrong.

He still hadn’t worked it out at eleven o’clock the next morning when John slammed his way into the flat, whistling loudly.  Sherlock lay for a while, listening to his flatmate moving around the flat before finally leaving his bedroom. 

John looked up in surprise from that morning’s paper, a mug of coffee halfway to his mouth.  “Oh…I didn’t think you were in.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

John shrugged and took a sip of his drink.  “I thought you might’ve taken Molly to Barts.”

Sherlock tutted and poured himself a cup of coffee.  “Molly didn’t stay.”

“Oh…” the doctor said hesitantly.  “…why not?  Did you guys have a row?”

He shook his head, taking a sip of coffee.

“Did you ask her?” John asked quietly.

He scowled.  “Yes.”

“And?”

“And nothing.  Molly made it abundantly clear that she has no desire to live here…with me.” with that he slammed his coffee on the kitchen table and strode off into the sitting room, dropping down onto the sofa.

Unfortunately John followed him, sitting himself down on the coffee table.  “Sherlock…” he said in a tone which was probably supposed to be persuasive.  “…what happened?”

He harrumphed and turned his back on his friend, curling up on his side.

“Come on, Sherlock, what happened?” Sherlock remained silent.  “If you don’t tell me, I can’t help.” still he said nothing.  “Surely it can’t be that bad.” reluctantly he turned so he was lying on his back, John looked slightly more encouraged.  “I’m sure we can fix it…whatever _it_ is.”

Sherlock sighed, clasping his hands together and resting them on his stomach.  “I asked her to move in.  I stated my reasons and she just walked out without letting me finish.” he said tonelessly.

“Right…” John murmured uncertainly.  “…did you say what we planned?”

“Some.”

“Right…” his friend said again.  “…well, what exactly did you say?”

“I merely explained that her moving in would be highly practical.  I will have space when you move out, she will be around to help with cases should you not be available.  It will benefit her financially and her commute will be shorter.  It is far more convenient than…”

“Oh dear god…tell me you did not use the word ‘convenient’!” John said desperately.

Sherlock stopped short, frowning up at the ceiling.  “I-I may have used the word.”

“Bloody hell…” the other man muttered, getting to his feet and striding round the coffee table, before turning and glaring at him.  “…Sherlock you do not call a woman convenient…”

“I didn’t! I…”

“Shut up!” John snapped, cutting across him yet again.  “You do not call a woman convenient or use that word in relation to her.  It makes it sound like she is convenient and having her live here is convenient for you…like she is convenient for sex!”

Sherlock closed his mouth with an audible snap.  “Oh…” he said finally.

“Jesus Christ, Sherlock…” John grumbled rubbing his face briskly.  “…you need to fix this.”

But Sherlock was already up and moving towards his bedroom.  He took a quick shower, shaved and dressed in a new black suit and the purple shirt Molly liked and left, pulling on his coat as he went.

* * *

Molly exhaled and leant heavily against the cupboards in the morgue.  She was exhausted since she’d barely slept after the debacle at Baker Street the night before.  She still couldn’t quite believe Sherlock had said what he said.  Was that all she was to him?  Convenient?  A convenient what exactly?  A convenient person to discuss cases with when John was out?  A convenient person to test being in a relationship with?  A convenient shag?

She grimaced in distaste and shook her head.  She couldn’t think about it now, not when she had a group of students waiting outside the morgue for her to begin their lecture.

Sucking in a breath she went to let the small class of eleven into the room.  “Gloves, masks and protective glasses everyone…” she said as they filed in.  “…gather around the patient but don’t touch anything.” she put on her own gloves, mask and glasses then waited while the group sorted themselves out.  Finally there were all ready and gathered around the mortuary table currently holding a Mr Gardiner.  “Right…I hope everyone has read the notes that Doctor Stamford gave you.” there was a collective nod as everyone agreed.  “Good…now someone tell me about this patient.” and so the lesson began, thankfully they were fourth year Pathology students so they needed very little handholding.  Just after they moved on to the actual examination, the doors to the morgue burst open.  She looked up in surprise as all of the students turned around. 

Sherlock was stood in the doorway, if he was caught unawares by the group of students, his face didn’t show it.  “Doctor Hooper…” he said quickly.  “…I require a word.”

Molly gritted her teeth, grateful that her mask hid her chagrin since every single student was now looking from her to Sherlock and back again.  “As you can see, I’m a little busy at the moment, Mr Holmes.” she bit out. 

He looked undeterred.  “It is quite urgent, if you could step outside for a moment.”

“No…” she snapped, frowning darkly.  “…leave my morgue please.”

“Molly…” he said gently.  “…please.”

She tutted loudly.  “I said no!  Now go away, I’m busy.”

“I’m not leaving until I’ve said what I came here to say.”

“Well, you’ll be waiting a long time then.” she replied tartly, turning her attention back to the students.  “Now…if you could ignore the intrusion and carry on with you…”

“Fine…” Sherlock said stubbornly, interrupting her.  “…I’ll just say what I came to say right here.  I am sorry about last night.  I didn’t mean it the way it came out.  The fact of the matter is, I want you to live with me.  I want Baker Street to be _our_ home.  I want you to be waiting for me when I get home from cases, I want to be waiting for you when you get home.  I want to see your possessions beside mine…even all of your romance novels that you think I don’t know about, the ridiculous amount of cat mugs you own, your floral cushions, the pig ornaments and that furball of a cat.  Frankly I can think of nothing better than waking up beside you…that is…when I actually sleep.  I would even consent to doing the food shopping with you and my share of the housework, unless of course I have a case.  I would even be open to negotiating a cooking rota of some description, though that maybe tricky, as you know I don’t exactly have a large repertoire…” he stopped abruptly and rocked back on his heels, she got the distinct impression that he’d said a lot more than he intended.  That feeling increased when she noticed the deep pink smudges on his cheeks, which were in stark contrast to his usual pallor.

Molly’s heart pounded loudly in her chest, she couldn’t believe Sherlock had said all of that, especially in front of a group of students who were all extraordinarily interested in his exploits.  She was quite sure their conversation would be all over Twitter by the end of the class.  She found herself wishing she’d gone outside when he’d asked her to.  Stupid, stubborn Molly.  “I think we should talk outside.” she breathed, he gave her a brief nod and left the room.  “Everyone, carry on with the examination…if I were you, I’d pay particular attention to the liver.” with that she head towards the doors, pulling off her mask, gloves and glasses, tucking all three into the pocket of her lab coat as she joined Sherlock outside. 

“That probably wasn’t the ideal location for such a conversation.” he said, as she closed the door firmly behind her.

“No, it wasn’t.” she replied stiffly, folding her arms tightly across her chest.  “Did you mean…all of that?”

“Of course I did.  I am not in the business of saying things I don’t mean, Molly…surely you know that.”

Molly frowned.  “Yes but last night, you…”

He interjected quickly.  “Last night didn’t go exactly as I planned.  I had intended to give you all of the more sentimental reasons first but I…” Sherlock broke off and looked down at the floor, the pink flush returning to his cheeks.  “…panicked and ended up giving you all of the logical reasons first, all of which are true and I would’ve said eventually, except the convenient comment…obviously.”

“Obviously.” she murmured faintly.  “You-you planned it?” 

“Naturally.  For weeks.  And when I came to do it…I ruined it.” he mumbled dejectedly.

Molly sighed and shook her head, striding over to him before taking his hands firmly in her own.  “It’s not ruined, Sherlock.”

“No?”

“Of course not…” she paused and smiled up at him.  “…perhaps you could ask me again, actually ask me though, last night it was more of a statement.”

“Fair point…” he murmured, his lips quirked up slightly.  “…Molly Hooper, will you please move in with me?”

She beamed at him, letting his hands go and gripping the lapels of his coat, yanking him down before pressing a fierce kiss to his lips.

“Was that a yes?” he croaked when they broke apart.

Rolling her eyes, she reached up and slapped him lightly on the shoulder.  “Of course it was, you incorrigible man!”   

With a grin he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off her feet, kissing her furiously.  She clung to him, slipping her hands up and threading her fingers through his dark curls, completely unconcerned about the morgueful of students or the fact that anyone might pass by.  The only thing she was aware of was Sherlock.  That was until they were interrupted by a polite cough.  They both pulled away to see John smiling widely at them.

“So, you two sorted things out then.” he said.

Sherlock huffed and set her on her feet, keeping his arms firmly around her waist while she attempted to hide her face in his coat.  “Evidently…was there something you wanted?”

“Yes…Lestrade called, he has a case for us.” John replied, still beaming at them like a proud father.  “He tried to call you but he said your phone was off.”

“You turned your phone off?” Molly murmured, peering up at him.

He shrugged and replied in a whisper.  “Of course…this was rather important.”

Her already flushed cheeks got even warmer as she smiled at him, surprised that he’d actually turned his phone off for their talk, he never turned his phone off, ever.  She suddenly found that she quite wanted to resume their kissing and perhaps drag him into a store cupboard, whether John was there or not, but she couldn’t, unfortunately.  “You should go.” Molly said softly.

“Hmm…” he muttered, noncommittally.  “…I suppose…and so should you.  They should’ve had enough time to diagnose cirrhosis of the liver by now.”

With a sigh, she glanced reluctantly at the closed doors behind her.  “I suppose.” she said, mirroring his response.

After a few more seconds when neither of them were inclined to move, Sherlock kissed her just long enough to take her breath away before loosening his grip on her waist.  “Come round to the flat after your shift, we’ll have dinner.”

She nodded and stretched up, kissing him again before unwinding her fingers from the hair at the nape of his neck.  “Ok…shall I bring dinner or…”

“No, we’ll go out…” he said swiftly.  “…celebrate.”

“Right…ok.”

He shot her a brief smile and leant down, snatching one more kiss before stepping away and turning round, walking off down the corridor, already asking John about the new case.

Molly smiled to herself and shook her head as she stood, watching the detective and the doctor disappear into the one of the lifts halfway down the corridor.  Oh God, she did love him.

 


End file.
